


she wears me down to bones in bed

by everlastingtremors



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Electrocution, Forced Orgasm, Knifeplay, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychological Torture, Sadism, Scarification, Sensory Deprivation, Voyeurism, allagan vibrators exist because i say so, didnt even try to justify this with a plot this time. it's just shameless porn, i keep remembering shit i added after i write my commentary tags lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22996306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlastingtremors/pseuds/everlastingtremors
Summary: Many hands make for light work, as Thancred was about to find out.
Relationships: Lahabrea/Thancred Waters
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	she wears me down to bones in bed

Playing with fire was, quite frankly, a terrible idea when the life of a Scion of the Seventh Dawn was already so thick with hazard. Unfortunately for Thancred, he quite liked the thrill. Weaving through enemy territory, each step a matter of life and death; adrenaline was the drug of his trade. There was a most unfamiliar drug, however, within the vial that Lahabrea produced from the shadows and held tauntingly beyond Thancred’s reach. Such was the way of it when he had his wrists tied firm to the bedframe, near-naked body straddled by a fully clothed Ascian. He could take a gander as to the liquid’s effects based on past experience. An aphrodisiac, perhaps? Or a muscle relaxer to further hinder his attempts at breaking free of his bindings? That, or a poison to attack him from the inside, with the only antidote in Lahabrea’s wretched grip.

Snide words lingered at the tip of his tongue, but Thancred kept his jaw locked shut. It was the name of the game— an imperfectly imbalanced exchange of power, where some of the thrill was all in his attempts to tip the scales back in his favor. The rest of the thrill, however, was the masked man who leaned in to caress his face, the tip of his thumb claw tracing the line between Thancred’s lips. “Save your defiance for when it matters most,” the Ascian said, coolly, infuriatingly detached. “It bores me so when I break you too swiftly.”

_Wouldn’t that be a shame_ , Thancred thought, but he merely stared back, jaw unmoving. Lahabrea sighed, and the ghostly scratch of his talons drifted downward toward the scion’s shoulder. He took it in iron grip, uncomfortable, but not painful until Lahabrea began to press his weight into his claws, digging them into his flesh. A half-hearted gesture; if he truly wanted to inflict real injury, he would do so with little hesitation rather than inch his talons deeper and deeper, watching the muscles in Thancred’s face for the slightest reaction.

It hurt, yes, but he clenched his jaw harder to stomach the pinpricking sting that grew with slow intensity. Then the edge of his lip twitched, and he knew, he _knew_ the instant his lips parted ever so slightly to involuntarily hiss at the pain, that Lahabrea would take advantage of it. Hand flew to his mouth to pry it open a little further, the tips of his claws cold against tender tongue. Then there was bitter liquid down the back of his throat, and though he made an attempt to sputter some of it out, Lahabrea’s hand moved to clamp his mouth shut and force the rest of it down.

“The night is still young,” Thancred said upon release, “don’t let a single victory get to your head.”

Lahabrea hummed in response, and allowed his touch to wander, to grope and explore territory he knew like the back of his own hand, yet feigned ignorance to every time. A brush of the neck, exposed without the thick leather of a white choker, and traced the outline of his Archon’s mark. “Were it only possible to strip the ink from your flesh without bleeding you dry. Your neck would have been a most perfect place to mark you as my own.”

_You quite like your permanency,_ Thancred thought, determined to keep his face as level as possible as not to betray his disagreement. A single word of encouragement was all Lahabrea needed to brand his body, or worse yet, his face. _No_ was Lahabrea’s _yes_ , and that was simply the reality of consenting to a most thorough fucking in the first place. No limitations, and no boundaries.

Carefully, Thancred shifted his wrists in his bindings. Lahabrea either failed to notice, or simply didn’t care. Not that his escape was an immediate concern; the Ascian knew his knots well, and it seemed every encounter only built upon the last to the point where there was little breathing room to work the magic of his roguish trade. Slowly, he leaned in toward Thancred, the shift of his robes and the creak of the bed quiet with movement. A hand slipped behind Thancred’s neck to massage the nape as Lahabrea kissed the side of his jaw. Ominously tender, as though he genuinely cared for the man beneath him. Lips turned to teeth, however, and kisses to bites at his neck. If the ink of his tattoos couldn’t be removed, then Lahabrea would simply have to make do with temporary marks. Puncturing the soft of his skin with forceful nips, sucking until the blood vessels in his neck had no choice but to burst and blossom with visible violet blotches.

It was difficult to tell whether the intense stirring in his groin was from his own horniness, or the potion forced down his throat. Either way, Thancred inhaled through his nostrils, a slight shiver to his breath while he subtly worked his wrists between the rope. Face began to flush against his will, the warmth of heavy blush spreading to his ears when Lahabrea’s opposite hand slid down between them to fondle his cock. “I hope,” Lahabrea murmured into his ear, “you don’t believe I am ignorant to your yearning. Everything desirable comes at a cost, scion.”

“Well? Are you going to tell me what it is?” Thancred murmured back, legs shifting in delight at Lahabrea’s strokes. It was precisely like touching himself in that the Ascian knew each and every nerve in his member, and the instant he found a weak spot, he moved in to exploit it. He wondered briefly if Lahabrea had used his body to masturbate all those years ago, and the heat in the back of his throat gathered at his lips with a hot huff.

His wrists could twist freely in the rope now. He knew full well that the rope burn would be most terrible, but that was a problem for later. For now, Thancred arched his back and pressed his pelvis into Lahabrea’s touch. A little shameless, but he figured the shamelessness of going to the enemy for a fuck far outshadowed that lapse of pride. Lahabrea laughed, a soundless exhale against the scion’s ear. “No. You’ll learn.”

The Ascian leaned back, and while he continued to rub Thancred’s dick, his other hand stretched out with visible dramaticism to summon a peculiar object from the abyss and display it in front of his victim. Thancred’s brows furrowed. He couldn’t recognize it aside from obvious Allagan origin, a black object the length an index finger with pulsing scarlet glyphs. Lahabrea offered a sly smile, then set it aside on the nightstand. There wasn’t a point in asking questions; the smirk on Lahabrea’s face made that much obvious.

Gut swooned with desire, and though Thancred paused his attempt at escape now that Lahabrea had a full view of him, his fingers flexed with anticipation. His erection, firm and hard beneath Lahabrea’s hand, nearly ached with the laziness of the stroking. “Hm,” Lahabrea hummed and abruptly stopped, “I’ve had enough of this.”

“Have you, now?” Thancred replied, voice flat with displeasure. He leaned his head back into the bed and dug the base of his skull into the sheets in mild frustration. 

Lahabrea cupped his chin and gave him another haughty smile. “We aren’t finished yet, scion. Do not sound so disappointed. I haven’t yet worked you to the brink.” He slid off the bed, leaving Thancred’s body bare and exposed, and white brows once again knit together as he watched Lahabrea take a most casual seat in a chair against the wall, folding one leg over the other and propping his cheek against a casual knuckle.

He very nearly asked _what are you doing_ out of sheer confusion, but a movement from the other end of the room caught his attention first. Another Ascian pushed themselves up from their lean against the wall and drifted over to the bed, ghostlike and silent, face fully covered with the ash black mask of Lahabrea’s subordinates. “I wasn’t aware we were to be having company,” Thancred growled, face further hardening when an abyssal gate opened at the other side of the bed to invite a second Ascian of the Twelfth Chalice into the fray. The first Ascian straddled him, while the second merely sat at the edge of the bed by his upper body, prying hands moving to play with his hair and ghost the crook of his neck. Body stiffened with discomfort.

“You relinquished complete control unto me, scion.” Lahabrea said from his seat, unmoving, “I do with you as I please, and tonight, I prefer to watch you squirm.”

“Flattered,” Thancred muttered beneath his breath, which trailed off into a bothered huff when he felt the pair of Ascians come closer and lift their masks just enough to expose their mouths to both sides of his neck. One seemed more intent on gentle kisses, while the other ran their tongue down the side of his jaw, then moved to nibble on his earlobe. At the very least, the two of them were momentarily distracted. Despite full awareness of Lahabrea’s presence, Thancred continued to work his bound wrists.

The Ascian straddling him began to rub their crotch against his abdomen, offering increasingly heated kisses. Thancred attempted to lean back further into the bed, but there was nowhere else to go, fully sunken into the slight give of the mattress. It was difficult to tell with the fabric of the Ascians’ hoods so close to his face, but Thancred had a slight inkling that the seated servant was touching themselves based on their movement alone. He thoroughly understood the workings of a horny body; especially his own, which both withdrew from the unwanted touching of strangers, and rolled further into the friction of another’s blatant erection.

The Ascian that straddled him withdrew, and Thancred lifted his head just enough to observe their actions as they slid a little further back on his body to find his unbuckled belt and work his pants halfway down his thighs. Eyes widened some at a sudden wetness on the inside of his thigh, close to his pelvis. The Ascian ran their tongue in the crook of his crotch, then bit gently at the sensitive flesh between his legs. Oddly enough, if only that mouth belonged to Lahabrea, Thancred would have relaxed fully and allowed it without question. But the unfamiliarity of the black-masked strangers set his neck hairs on end, and he turned his head to look over at Lahabrea, who continued to watch, still as stone in his throne aside from the smile, canines visible, that spread across his face at Thancred’s slightly desperate stare.

Almost, almost! The bindings were loosening. Thancred gave his wrists a sudden, sharp tug, and at last, he felt the bonds scrape against his hands to let him slip out and attempt to throw a punch at the robed Ascian who sat atop him. Fingers cracked against black mask, and he took the moment as an opportunity to buck the Ascian off him and jolt to his feet. That was the plan, at least, until he felt one firm hand wrap around his wrist, and then the other. Thancred thrashed in a wild attempt to free himself, but the pair of Ascians had the advantage of being fully armed and rife with magick. Face-first, they pushed him back onto the bed and, albeit with great resistance, started to force his wrists behind his back. One of the Ascians conjured their damnable shadowed ropes; Thancred couldn’t see it, cheek pressed into the sheets, but he could feel deft hands at work, wrapping the bindings around him and ensuring they were as tight and harsh against his skin as possible. They pulled the rope tighter, and Thancred felt his ability to resist slip away as they knotted the bindings, around and around his wrists, until he had thick cuffs of rope that refused to yield no matter how hard he jerked his wrists. Still holding him down, he felt hands slip something beneath his neck and pull it around until a weight settled on his throat. 

“I am not— your damn dog!” Thancred snapped, realizing that he had been collared, and now they were snapping it onto a leash to further their dominance. One of them wrapped it around their wrist until it was short enough to pull back on and choke him ever so slightly.

“Not our dog,” one said, straddling his legs. A cold hand reached between his cheeks and began to spread them, wet, lubricated fingers easing inside to probe around. Thancred grit his teeth. “But Master Lahabrea’s pet.” The fingers helped ease a cock inside of him. Thancred inhaled, sudden, sharp, and shivering. There was a girth within him now, hot and wet and eager to use him. The Ascian who had mounted him rolled slowly, hands settling on Thancred’s hips to forcibly guide his body along with their thrusting movements.

“Ah…!” Thancred gasped, and the Ascian took it as a signal to start thrusting faster, gradually getting rougher and rougher until Thancred groaned uncontrollably between every roll of their bodies. The Ascian too, began to moan. The throbbing cock inside of him was about ready to come. Thancred’s own member ached with desire, turned on further by the second pair of Ascian hands groping his upper body, squeezing his shoulders and rubbing around the collar. “Nghhh!” Thancred whimpered through clenched teeth. Bed rocked with the force of the Ascian’s thrusting, and they let out a ragged “Ah… ah!” as they orgasmed, ejaculating inside of Thancred with a thick surge of heat.

That should have been the end of it, but he felt the leash pass hands, and knew within an instant that the other Ascian wasn’t about to be left out of the fun. With no concern for the cum oozing from his ass, they spread him and mounted him all the same. This time, their hands slipped around to his front, fondling his balls and cock as they began to rock inside him, vocally moaning with delight after every thrust. It was another painful reminder of their unknown identities, the clumsiness of their touch in comparison to Lahabrea’s mastery. Nonetheless, Thancred’s muscles tensed, and he half-stifled a fluttering whine. It didn’t take much to send jolts of heated pleasure through his lower body, which led him to further suspect the potion from earlier had been a most potent aphrodisiac. Bodies rolled together in tandem, the handjob halting as the second Ascian’s thrusting intensified. A pair of hands took hold of his head, and at this point, he couldn’t tell who they belonged to. So preoccupied with the second pump of cum inside him, Thancred didn’t realize that the hands were intent on sliding a piece of fabric into his mouth until the gag tightened around the back of his head. Senses being stripped away one by one— first movement, and now speech. But why stop there? Next came the blindfold, and along with, it a budding sense of anxiety. Now the reality of his loss of control was beginning to set in, and briefly, he wondered what demon had possessed him to compel him to come to an Ascian alone and willing.

Then he remembered: that demon was named Lahabrea.

The second Ascian pulled out, and with little hesitation, the two flipped him onto his back before one reassumed their position on top of him, and the other knelt at the head of the bed to place Thancred’s head on their (mercifully covered) lap.

Chest trembled with uneasy breath. _He won’t kill you_ , Thancred reasoned with himself, but for some reason it offered him little comfort. _You’ll be released eventually. He always does._ Still, part of him wondered, and again cursed himself for taking an Ascian at their word. When he felt the sharp tip of a blade against his sternum, however, shoulders tightened and eyes widened beneath the blindfold.

Dagger-tip traced the lines of his muscles with slight pressure. Not enough to break skin, but enough to tickle his flesh, remind him that they wielded all the power, and he was left with nothing. It struck him in that moment that he could also feel the firm erection against his head, beneath the Ascian’s robes. Nostrils flared with heavy breath when the dagger moved to his jawline, tracing the bone beneath his skin before it dug deeper, leaving a small, stinging cut in its wake.

“Where shall we leave it?” The Ascian at his head asked the other. Again, dagger snaked down his chest, tentative and horribly pensive. Down past his ribs, then abdomen, and Thancred could not help but give a choked whimper when he felt it skirt his pelvis and brush against his cock. They could castrate him in an instant, he realized, and he gave a muffled ‘please’ despite their unspoken laws, their reversal of consent. Lahabrea laughed from his seat.

“Since you asked nicely.” The blade-wielder moved back up to his breast, and his entire body would have relaxed were it not for the still-impending threat. A threat made reality as the blade dug into his skin, not a full stab but with the intent of creating a gash across his chest. Thancred stifled a cry. Hands gripped his shoulders to hold him in place as the other began to work, cutting in a pattern that Thancred could not quite identify as anything other than methodical. He writhed, tilting his chin back fully into the other Ascian’s lap as though the pressure would lend him relief. How perverse that despite the pain, he was merely grateful they had mercy enough to leave his cock unscathed.

Then again, it would be one less vulnerable body part for Lahabrea to play with, and he knew then that it was an empty threat— one that he had nonetheless fallen for. Thancred attempt to twist his bound wrists to try and work it apart, same as the first tie, but found the rope unforgiving. “Trying to leave?” The straddling Ascian cooed, charmed by the attempt, then tugged on the leash to pull him forward into a kiss through the gag before they resumed the cutting. “You’re a poorly behaved pet. Shall we train him for you, Master Lahabrea?”

“Of course,” Lahabrea said with another foul laugh.

The mutilation of his burning breast ceased, and Thancred’s gut loosened with relief. He wouldn’t have been able to stifle his cries past the point of mild gasping for much longer. Both pairs of hands settled atop him, one caressing his face, the other against his nipples, and without warning, a sudden electrical jolt of pain shot through his muscles, coursing through his entire body with a fury that finally made him snap and let out a muffled howl. Yet at the same time, a blankness of the mind came over him as though the hands against his face emanated thought-clearing magicks. A blankness, and then a most terrible imagery that made him seize with pain far worse than the physicality of the shocks. The scions at Lahabrea’s mercy, a spear of shadow that impaled Y’shtola and forced a wretched screech from her lips. Her corpse hit the floor with frightening clarity, eyes lifeless. The twins, slashed to bits and thrown aside in a heap. Another electrical shock tore through Thancred’s body, and he wailed. Hands against his chest retreated momentarily to unclasp his gag, simply to hear a louder scream when they resumed again. “What are you doing?” Thancred cried out between the jolts of pain, though he couldn’t care less about his own body. No, it was a cry birthed from the visions forced into his skull. Urianger turned to ash in a whirlwind of flame. “Gods— stop!” He yelled at last, before voice trailed off into a fully-blown scream at the next shock, accompanied by a sight he squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out. Minfilia held by the Ascians, bare back turned to Lahabrea. Tendrils of shadow that burst forth from his hand and lashed against her flesh. The convulsions of her body, wet tears from her eyes. Thancred thrashed against the iron grip of the Ascians. “Gods! Get out of my head! Lahabrea— please!”

Minfilia begging for mercy, staring up at Tupsimati, mounted on the back wall of her solar. Her sanctuary, invaded by the enemy. “I’m begging you!” Thancred shrieked, and his body shivered with another electric shock. Sweat rolled down his brow and the back of his neck, onto the Ascian’s robes and the sheets beneath him. “Minfilia! Merciful Twelve! _Minfilia!_ ”

He screamed her name. He screamed for Lahabrea’s mercy, for the intervention of the Gods themselves. He screamed, and the visions played out with no reprieve, his rapidly-weakening body struggling in vain to throw himself between Minfilia and the lashings. Watching, helplessly, as she went limp in the Ascian’s arms, blood flowing freely from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes— how was he able to see her eyes and the lashings at once? A scene simultaneously intimate and distant, and when they finally dropped her lifeless corpse onto the ground, a final shock ripped through him, and the vision faded, leaving behind the black of the blindfold. He was weeping, he realized, face wet with tears, gasping for breath, entire body trembling. Lips met his neck and gave a wet kiss, but Thancred felt nothing, nothing but a hollow ache in his heart.

A hollow ache, and then a flare of lust when the Ascian stroked his cock with a hand between their bodies. “Anything,” Thancred whispered with threadbare voice, “Anything but that.” Aimed not at the invasive touch, but the ghosts of the visions that spun around him in a dizzying haze.

“Shut up,” the Ascian at his head replied, and once again, he felt the fabric of the gag thrust back into his mouth and retied. Hands played with his hair, but every time Thancred felt them inch remotely close to his face, he near whimpered at the thought of being subject to the visions again. Resistance whittled down, he groaned freely as they played with him, wet and longing. The stimulation distracted him from the terrible imagery that still haunted him, and with little dignity, offered his body as best he could to the Ascian rubbing him. Submitting fully to their wills, allowing his chin to be moved freely by the hand that tilted it upward to stroke the front of his neck.

“Predictable,” Lahabrea chided in from the side, “It takes so little effort to subdue you. The weakness of man is ever so amusing to observe.”

The unknown Ascian’s touch was clumsy, but damn if it wasn’t as teasing as Lahabrea’s. It waited like a predator in wait for prey until his hips rolled with the rubbing, then crawled to a stop to dance around his pelvis instead. Thancred moaned, long and frustrated. He leaned his head into the erection beside it, a primitive way of attempting to communicate a desperate exchange. Maybe if he blew them, they would let him come. All that earned him was another teasingly slow hand job that waited precisely until he gave out a wild, trembling moan, then once stopped again. They watched until he started to simmer, then for a third time, worked his cock to heated exasperation and denied him. Between the heartache that still gripped him like a constricting force around his chest and the twitching burn of his groin, so desperate that he tried to rub himself against the Ascian that straddled him, Thancred wondered if he was going mad.

Leash tugged him upright with the aid of the other Ascian’s hands, and Thancred found himself being repositioned, seated on one Ascian’s lap, the other rising fully on their knees. Gag untied, it wasn’t difficult to guess what they intended on doing next, even with a thoroughly muddled mind. They guided his head downward and cock slipped into his mouth. Obediently, he sucked, too exhausted to fight back. Tongue tracing the length of the stranger’s member while the one behind him rubbed their erection against his back and kissed the side of his neck. Cheeks burned with humiliation, but fortunately, Thancred was too preoccupied with ensuring his thoughts remained his own to ruminate on the emotion. One hand tightened in his hair, and he worked his tongue up the bottom of the Ascian’s shaft, over and over, until he felt a warm spurt of cum begin in his mouth, and end all over his face when the Ascian pulled out for that distinct reason.

“I think now would be an appropriate time to use it,” the Ascian behind him murmured into his ear, though it was quite obviously not intended for him. They pulled away, briefly, just long enough to reach for something. The Allagan object? It was all Thancred could think of, unless they had summoned something else into the mix. Leash tugged forward, and Thancred felt the object held up against his cock. Yes, it was most definitely the Allagan relic. It felt precisely how it looked, thick, relatively long, and mildly uncomfortable. Until it began to vibrate, and Thancred gasped. The stimulus rippled through his member, intense beyond what any human hand could ever offer, and Thancred pressed his legs together to better feel the vibrations in his thighs. Already so sensitive from repeated touch and denial, he feared they would pull the vibrating relic away before it could work him fully, but cold relief trickled down the back of his neck with sweat when he felt an orgasmic heat build in his groin, climbing further and further up his shaft until finally, _finally_ , he came with a moaning cry. Relief at last.

Relief, until he realized they weren’t moving the vibrator. It hurt a little, the sheer vulnerability of a cock already tormented with carefully controlled orgasm, and Thancred slid his legs back open a little when he felt them pressed shut again with firm hands. He groaned, tried to lean back, then grit his teeth in growing despair when it prompted the Ascian behind him to bend him further in toward the vibrator and lock him in place, pressed up against it. Thighs forcibly wrapped around it, unable to escape the growing vibrations against his aching member. “You were so eager to come,” the Ascian behind him said, “that we’ve decided to properly indulge you on Master Lahabrea’s behalf.”

It ached so badly. An ache that cusped on pain until his cock began to stir again, and then morphed into an ache most pleasurable. Body tensed up, and he panted heavily into the bedsheets, another orgasm building in the bottom of his bent-over form. Whoever held the vibrator began to rub it gently against his shaft, but even the most gentle rub strained his overwhelmed senses and made him cry out. Orgasm pooled in his groin, and he came again with an exhausted scream.

His body jerked back in an attempt to resist the hands that kept him pinned. A writhing need to escape the growing agony of the vibrator against his recovering dick; an attempt he knew was futile, but he needed to try something, _anything_ , rather than sit helplessly atop the overstimulation that radiated through his bones. Thancred whined and whimpered, then eventually cried out again between hungry, panting breaths. His cock stirred again, a traitor to every other instinct in his body, and this time, the orgasm grew alongside a horrid pain. He was drooling into the bedsheets, he realized, too overwhelmed to shut his mouth. Body trembled as he came a third time, weak in comparison to the other two and with no sense of satisfaction to accompany it.

“Lahabrea—” he sputtered, a breathless, shrill whisper in face of unrelenting pleasure, “—help me. D-don’t… let them do this!”

“I see.” Lahabrea said after a moment, “I cannot deny such a genuine cry for aid. Enough.”

Pinning grip relaxed, and the vibrator taken away. Thancred laid motionless, shivering, grateful a thousand times over that the two figures at his front and back were obediently retreating. Too grateful that he didn’t consider Lahabrea’s motivations, and accepted without question when Lahabrea sat down on the bed beside him and helped his head onto his lap to gently stroke his hair and pull white locks away from his sweaty, thoroughly flushed face. A most intimate, tender touch that would have sent a shiver down his spine if he weren’t already trembling.

“Thank you,” Thancred whispered, and Lahabrea laughed.

“I felt it necessary to reward such a _pitiful_ display. I found it most entertaining.” Gentle claws scratched his back, and though in any other situation it might have been soothing, the slight stimulation was enough to make Thancred pull away. Again, Lahabrea laughed, then turned him to examine his front and probe at the gashes on his breast. Thancred whined, but it was nothing in face of the Allagan relic, and so he happily accepted it. “Yet I wonder why you would _thank me_ when there is more yet to come.”

The scion tensed, and weakly tugged at his bindings. “Have you no heart?” He said, still breathless, “I’ve had my fill, and I’ll gladly thank you for it. But I cannot… I cannot…” Thancred trailed off at a loss for words. Lahabrea brushed through his hair with his claws, smile beyond sight, but undoubtedly present.

“I’m starting to _regret_ granting you a reprieve. Your jaw may wag with gratitude, but I can yet see a clear ungratefulness through the façade,” Lahabrea said, “I do not tolerate lies, and I most certainly do _not_ tolerate insubordination, my pet.”

Thancred’s face unwillingly contorted with despair. He was utterly helpless against three others with no weapon on hand, and no strength to even break free of his bondage. Begging would accomplish nothing but further humiliation. But his body compelled him to beg regardless, exhausted and worked to the brink. “It was not intended as such,” he murmured, but Lahabrea slid out from beneath him, and two pairs of hands returned to adjust him onto his back. He thrashed weakly and moaned, “Please, Lahabrea! You know full well what I meant!”

One Ascian braced his shoulders down against the bed, the other settling atop his legs. A temperamental flare shot up Thancred’s spine, and he bared his teeth. Energy suddenly returning to his voice, he spat, “Twelve forfend you respect my limitations! You swiving— mmnngh!” Words died in his throat when the Allagan relic pressed against his cock, and to further add insult to injury, wet fingers slid behind him and into his ass. A perfect combination of physical torture and bodily indulgence that won immediate, sputtered cries. Painful, pleasurable vibrations and simultaneous fingering. Thancred’s back arched, the only movement he could manage with legs and upper body pinned down, and he dug his cheek into the sheets with grit-toothed agony. His orgasm, usually such a brief taste of heaven, came with a burn from the seven hells. It was near dry this time, but he still felt a small sputter of cum against his abdomen.

Four orgasms— or was it five? He couldn’t keep track anymore, but he knew this was far harder than he’d ever been worked before, especially in such a brief window. And they were gunning for another, the vibrations intensifying in his groin, apparently intent on fucking him senseless. They had already half-succeeded; his legs and groin bordered on numb with haywire stimulation. His semi-flaccid cock rose again with a slow crawl this time, and Thancred willed himself to harden faster that he might escape the vibrations sooner rather than later, but body wracked with exhaustion fought against another painful erection, prolonging an already intolerable sensation. But eventually, _eventually_ , the combination of vibrator and aphrodisiac worked him up again until he wanted nothing more than to scream.

Body trembled with another electrifying orgasm, a surge of heat through his thighs and stomach that was barely tangible above his tender, wailing nerves. He feared he would pass out if they pushed him much further, and perhaps they realized this, as finally, his groin was liberated from the pulsing tremors of the Allagan relic. Near winded, Thancred gasped for air, a thousand curses between each gasp though all he managed to choke out was a barely audible, “I despise you with every fibre of my being, Lahabrea. I _despise_ you…”

“And I care so terribly little, my pet,” Lahabrea replied flippantly, then turned his voice to his underlings and commanded, “Bring him here.”

Guided mainly by the choking pull of the leash, they dragged him off the bed with a sharp tug and into a heap on the floor. For once, Thancred had no intention of resisting, but his exhausted body struggled to move and help him sit upright on his knees. He had the option of either finding a deeply-hidden reserve of strength, however, or choking to death on the collar. Somehow he managed to pull himself up, though he felt heavy as stone and ready to collapse. Vaguely, he had a mental image of the situation: forced on his knees in front of a seated Lahabrea, who leaned forward to tilt his chin up. “Give me a satisfactory performance, and I will permit you the respite you crave.”

His tired mind clung to the word _respite_ , unable to fathom what sort of performance Lahabrea required until he slid his cock into Thancred’s mouth and started to play absent-mindedly with his hair. Gods, his throat felt raw, stripped bare by his screaming and the blow job from earlier. But he needed this, _needed_ a reprieve longer than the minute he’d been given earlier. Tongue worked Lahabrea’s shaft, lips determined to impress. He _was_ particularly gifted, blessed by the Twelve with a deft mouth and a gag reflex for the ages. Perhaps that was why Lahabrea demanded his oral skills so often, and for once, he wasn’t about to argue. Claws combed through his hair, then suddenly flexed in tandem with a sharp inhale. Lahabrea’s pelvis tensed, hips compelled towards Thancred’s mouth, and though Lahabrea came with a groan, it seemed perfectly composed in comparison to the screaming wreckage Thancred had been left as. Thancred swallowed without complaint.

“Yes… very good.” Lahabrea tilted his chin upward once more, then leaned in to offer him a tender kiss, first on the lips, then against his tattoo. Touching his battered breast, a soft magick radiated from the Ascian’s hand; a healing magick of some sort which lessened the sting, though not all the way. A purposely botched spell. “Next time, I won’t be so gentle.”

_Hilarious,_ Thancred thought with a frown, but said nothing. The leash dropped with a clatter to the ground, and hands swept beneath him to lift him up and back onto the bed. Covered in sweat and cum, but at the very least, softer than the floor. Lahabrea’s clawed gauntlet brushed against his chest one final time, pensive, then said, “‘Till next we meet… scion. Savor the interim whilst it lasts.”

The shadow-shrouded blindfold and rope vanished with a jarring suddenness. Thancred glanced to his side at the first opportunity, but Lahabrea was gone, his underlings along with him. Not that he was surprised. With a deep inhale, Thancred laid as his breath steadied, the mad drum of his heart slowing to a more comfortable beat. He pulled his hands out from beneath him and kneaded his wrists in an attempt to get the blood flowing back a little faster and return proper feeling to his fingers. When a vague sense returned to them, he ran his hand down his chest to examine the spot where he had been maimed and promptly grimaced when he felt a cluster of rough scars beneath his palm.

It was enough to motivate him to sit up and cast a leery glance toward the mirror mounted on the wall. Eyes met the sigil branded into his flesh, and he promptly laid down once more.

Terrible. Simply terrible.

But that was the exact reason why he always kept coming back for more.

**Author's Note:**

> stole the 'pet' thing from mythros_cat. i just really liked it, ok. go read their fic control i'll plug it 100 times and no one can stop me


End file.
